


Out of Turn

by tsukibeam



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blowjobs, IgNoct, M/M, Means to an End, Pining, Seduction, Truth or Dare, confessions under duress, duress being noct's mouth, tiny bit of porn without plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 22:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15349989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukibeam/pseuds/tsukibeam
Summary: “Truth or dare, Specs.” A game to some but for them it was a compromise. Not a direct command but a choice, born from when Noctis had realized the scope of his power and how his whims affected others.Ten years had passed and they were still playing; Ignis wondered if this game was even a choice anymore, at least for him.Or, Ignis is forced to deal with his feelings for Noctis.





	Out of Turn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marmolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/gifts).



> Ah, the fic that are born from ask memes. This is one of them XD 
> 
> For [Marmolita](http://marmolita.tumblr.com/) because they are Good, Supportive People and I like being enabled.

“I saw that.”

Ignis flicked his eyes to where Prompto tugged on his shoes, stumbling just once with the effort before he steadied himself and flashed Ignis a conspiratorial grin.

Even faced with its scrutiny, Ignis kept a mild expression and moved his attention back to dish drying. “Saw what, Prompto?”

The eyebrow that raised read, you’re kidding, right? But Prompto jerked a thumb toward the bedroom door Noctis had disappeared through. “How long have you been in love with him?”

That Ignis didn’t allow the fragile plate to slip clean from his hands was a testament to his ironclad control. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Clear across the room,” Prompto insisted, as easy as talking about the weather. “Love sick eyes. Need any help with that? Wingman it up for you?”

Steady as he could, Ignis drew in a long breath, both to calm his ever increasing heart and to gather the wits slowly being frayed by Prompto. “This is hardly appropriate, Prompto. Noctis is my employer, my prince.”

Ignis set the plate on the drying rack, let out a sigh, and took up another plate, all the while feeling Prompto’s stare still upon him. “You’ll miss that last train at this rate.”

Prompto shuffled on his feet for a moment, then slung his bag over his shoulder. Relief almost flowed from Ignis when the door opened but Prompto paused, body half out of the apartment, and looking thoughtful.

“You know,” he started, and Ignis braced himself. “I bet Noct feels the same.”

Ignis placed the plate beside the other and rested his hands on the counter, his whole weight supporting him there, and stared down. “That’s not for us to say.”

“I’m not Noct’s _employee_ ,” came Prompto’s soft reply. “Goodnight, Iggy.”

The door closed with a click before Ignis could muster up his own farewell.

 

* * *

 

_How long have you been in love with Noctis?_

Even after Noctis had retired, even after the dishes had been dried, dinner cleaned up, and living room tidied, Ignis stayed a long while in the prince's apartment.

Insomnia twinkled outside, vast as the sea of stars above them, unaware of the thoughts churning in the advisor’s head, thoughts Prompto had unwittingly unsettled.

Ignis turned the question over and over, reaching back to cherished memories, searching for the answer. He’d known, certainly, that he’d _had_ feelings but when had they surfaced?

It’d been slow, Ignis knew that. First, when he’d picked up Noctis after school one day to find him waving farewell to a new blonde friend. The smile Ignis caught in the rearview mirror had been breathtaking.

But before and after that, it’d been the big things, of course. Noctis’s kindness to strangers and animals. His ability to prioritize his studies and earn excellent grades; the thoughtfulness in his report notes. How he welcomed Prompto into his world with zero regard to background.

The small things only solidified it all--the lines of Noctis’s body under his royal raiment. The arch of his hand as he summoned a sword. The beauty mark just off his mouth, the one that Ignis desperately wanted to kiss when he stroked himself in the darkness of his room.

Noctis’s character was as beautiful as any starry night, as amazing as the Wall that glimmered above them. Witnessing this growth, the glimpses of the king he’d one day become--took Ignis's breath away faster than any sweet smile.

And now Prompto, before Ignis knew, gave name to those feelings. Gave voice to the thing Ignis tried everyday to bury.

 

* * *

 

Noctis’s door creaked open when the first tendrils of dawn caressed the sky. Ignis, from his spot on the couch, listened to the unsteady teeter of feet leaving the bedroom and then come to a stop at the end of the hall.

“Specs?” Ignis watched Noctis’s reflection in the window pass a hand over still sleepy eyes and squint at his dark figure.

Ignis closed his eyes, soaked in the cocoon of night and the solitary safety it offered for his thoughts for just a moment longer. When he opened his eyes again, he found his reflection staring at him.

“Can I get you anything, Noctis?” Clear across the room, Prompto had said. Love sick eyes; were they apparent, now?

Noctis blinked, sluggish even as awareness took hold of him and he shuffled through the living room, plopping himself on the couch beside Ignis. “Water…”

Ignis fetched a glass, careful with the cabinet doors in case Noctis drifted off but he needn’t worry. Noctis sat up straight on the couch, cheek resting on one hand while his other accepted the glass.

The bob of his throat as he downed the water, the trickle of a stray bead down his chin, and finally the elegant hand that wiped it away...Ignis was back watching his reflection before Noctis set the glass down, his chest visibly rising and falling in the window’s image. Clear across the room.

Noctis raised his eyes to Ignis as he sat back on the couch, watching him from under his dark fringe with curiosity. “What are you still doing here?”

Feeling wholly sorry for himself, Ignis did not say. Instead he shook his head, tearing away from his reflection and took the water glass back to the sink. Upon his return, he checked his watch. “Are you feeling better? There are still a few hours before your alarm--”

“Truth or dare, Specs.”

Ah. So that was how it was to be, then. A game to some but for them it was a compromise. Not a direct command but a choice, born from when Noctis had realized the scope of his power and how his whims affected others.

Ten years had passed and they were still playing; Ignis wondered if this game was even a choice anymore, at least for him.

Noctis repeated the challenge, and it hung in the air between them.

Ignis saw the obvious choice, Noctis’s preference and, still feeling the fall out from Prompto’s earlier probe, said, “ _Dare_.”

Noctis patted the cushion beside him. “I dare you to sit down. You need to relax more.”

So Ignis did; Noctis moved his legs and curled up against the opposite armrest, watching as Ignis settled into the well worn couch and crossed his legs. When silence filled the apartment, Noctis nudged Ignis’s thigh with a toe.

“Fine, Highness,” Ignis sighed. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” came the quick reply.

“Did you finish your homework earlier?”

The way Noctis’s nose scrunched up in distaste bordered on absurdly adorable. “Really? It’s barely five in the morning and you’re asking me this?”

“You can return to bed anytime.”

“ _Yes_. I finished it. Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” Ignis ventured.

Noctis’s feet bumped Ignis’s thigh in his quick scrabble off the couch and he retreated into the bedroom, returning moments later, book in hand. _Altissia: Recipes Reclaimed_. Thick, hardcover, full of glossy images of the beloved city and its bistros.

“It’s about Altissia’s chefs reclaiming the city’s culinary culture after Niflheim invaded,” Noctis explained as he settled back on the couch. He watched Ignis brush a hand over the cover. “I thought you’d like it so I dare you to read it this week. Front to back.”

Swallowing a chuckle at Noctis’s assumption Ignis even had _time_ for such a luxury but nonetheless touched all the same, Ignis nodded his thanks and managed a soft, “True or dare.”

The smile came swift to Noctis and, boldly, he swept his legs up and draped them over Ignis’s lap. “Truth.”

Ignis adjusted his glasses and glanced once more at the coming dawn. “What daemon ritual did you perform to be awake at this hour?”

Noctis snorted. “Rude. I really was thirsty and...I like talking to you.”

Something fluttered within Ignis at the small admission and he allowed a small, pleased smile to pull at his lips. They both fell silent, and Ignis thought it might be the end of this round, that Noctis might finally doze off, trapping Ignis and all. Not so bad of a thing, perhaps. Comfortable, even, much like when Noctis settled at his side while they reviewed reports.

He’d just tipped his head back onto the couch, just let himself relax and give into his exhaustion when Noctis spoke up with a whisper. “Truth or dare, Iggy.”

Ignis sucked in a breath, content like this with Noctis, and when he released it, breathed, “Truth.”

“What did you and Prompto talk about?”

Sunlight had completely filled the apartment, dispelling any night shadows while his eyes had been closed. Now open, Ignis looked at Noctis who watched him carefully, rich blue eyes bright, waiting.

The tension Ignis had been feeling at Prompto’s departure and Noctis’s appearance in the hall, shattered under their simple game. Was that betrayal thudding in his chest or--anticipation?

“Noctis.” Ignis tried for stern, tried clearing his throat, but it just came out tired. Defeated. “Lulling me into a false sense of security?”

“Yeah.” Noctis sat up and folded his long arms over his knees. The position left him closer to Ignis, their personal space a mere joke. “Answer the question.”

Were Ignis not so exhausted, had he had a decent night’s sleep, he might have laughed. The student outmaneuvering the strategist. A rookie mistake, as they say, for not catching it from the start.

“Nothing appropriate,” Ignis hedged, tearing away from Noctis, shifting under strong legs that pinned him. “Nothing I’ll repeat now.”

“Won’t you?” Noctis reached a hand out, brushed it over Ignis’s, and pried the book from him, setting it on the coffee table. Ignis swallowed, the sound thunderous in his ears, even over that of his heart. “You didn’t answer my question so--my turn again. Truth or dare?”

Noctis was so close to him now, mere inches away. The air was warm where he breathed out, where it brushed across Ignis’s neck, causing a shiver through the advisor. So close, more than the companionable nights they usually spent together.

Like an old fantasy come to life. Delicious in its simplicity, one that Ignis would happily get drunk off of in the privacy of his own apartment. Perhaps that was happening now. Perhaps that’s what made him say, “Dare.”

Ignis could see the curves of Noctis’s mouth with perfect clarity; a perfect bow, pink and plush. They moved, forming words that charged the air around them.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

Tempting, the offering that hovered beside him. Noctis licked his lips and the very sight of it, teasing and delicate as his tongue darted out--Ignis balled up his hands in his lap.

“Don’t do this, Noctis.” The words were heavy, regrettable. “Don’t make this a game.”

“Specs.” Noctis hooked a finger under his chin, holding him in place. “We’re way past games now. Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

Therein lay the problem--Ignis wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , speak for his prince. Represent him in interviews, yes, with pre-approved talking points they had discussed together but with this? Something so private and intimate? Ignis would never presume what Noctis, what his future king, desired.

Entirely inappropriate. Out of turn, beyond propriety--never had he been so arrogant to hope for a reality for his fantasies.

Yet, Noctis examined him, mouth popped open a sliver, the darkness beyond tantalizing. Noctis leaned forward, closing the gap with a chaste little kiss on Ignis’s neck. It sent a fire through him, surging and wanting.

“I know Prompto asked you about me,” Noctis whispered as he placed more gentle kisses on Ignis’s throat, up to the ridge of his jaw, down to the curve of his shoulder.

Ignis’s response was nothing more than a hiss. “Planned this, did you?”

Noctis’s laugh was a searing puff of air. “Not _this_ but yeah. I wanted to know... He’s a good wingman.”

“So he offered.”

“And here you are.” Noctis--gods help Ignis--nipped at his neck now. “Slowly coming undone. It’s a good look. I told you, you need to relax more.”

Noctis leaned back then and studied Ignis, drinking in the sight of the hard rise and fall of his chest, the flush that crept its way onto his cheeks and all around where Noctis had worked. The scrutiny made Ignis shiver.

“You still haven’t kissed me,” Noctis reminded him with a little pout. “Missed your chance for now. So. Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” Ignis sighed, if only because he feared what he’d do by answering otherwise.

Noctis bit his lip, and then went about rearranging Ignis. Uncrossing his legs. Taking his hands and placing them on Noctis's hips. Swinging a leg up and over so he straddled Ignis. Heavy, solid weight, warmth seeping into Ignis. Noctis put his hands on Ignis’s shoulders, pressed him into the couch and leaned in close.

Biting his lip from being surrounded by Noctis--the citrusy soap from his face wash, the lavender from his laundry detergent, the hot breath enveloping him--Ignis was helpless as the prince said, “Tell me you want me? Tell me you want me to touch you.”

Panting from this soft plead, Ignis tightened his hands on Noctis’s slender hips. " _Yes_. Noctis--I, yes."

Noctis pressed against Ignis in answer with a sweet smile and glassy, lust filled eyes that broke Ignis. He could feel the hardness in Noctis’s thin pajama pants and that apparent need--Ignis tilted his head up and at last kissed Noctis.

Noctis moaned into it, as they tasted each other, and as he trailed deft hands down Ignis’s shirt, undoing a button at a time.

A gasp escaped Ignis’s mouth, into Noctis’s at the first pinch of his nipple. The prince pulled away with a pleased smile. “Been wanting to do this for a while. _Fuck_ you’re so hot like this.”

It was so easy to lose himself under Noctis’s admission, under his hands. As each pinch and nip traveled down his body, divested him of his clothes, curled around his flushed cock, Ignis felt himself dissolve in pleasure.

Decorum was long gone as Noctis wrapped his delicious lips around Ignis’s cock, surrounding him with the sweetest warmth he’d ever felt. When it was over, when Ignis spilled himself to Noctis’s mouth, he mustered his breath.

“Truth or dare, Noctis,” he said to the prince, whose mouth glistened with Ignis’s pleasure.

“Dare.”

Ignis was already pulling Noctis back onto the couch. Pliant and eager, Noctis let Ignis lift his shirt and steal kisses along his silky chest. Ignis reached a hand between Noctis's legs and stroked the hardness there, drawing out a lovely whimper from the prince. 

“Let me do that to you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://tsukibeamfics.tumblr.com/)


End file.
